


Cover Your Cough

by 79nosliWedalS



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-06-09 13:44:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/79nosliWedalS/pseuds/79nosliWedalS
Summary: Slender was no spring chicken. Not anymore. Having spent the long majority of time's centuries alone (the alternative being the company of his brothers), this was a fairly pleasant change. For it was this lifetime that brought him a family of his own.A family of seven boys, each possessing a beautifully maniacal stride that colored the roof they shared (one that Slender had built so long ago), tucked away from a world that couldn't understand them. And things were good.Well, they were, until she came along.





	1. Perchance to Dream

Streaks of slivery moonlight stubbornly pushed through the gaps of tangled canopy to sit on the life beneath it. Settling on leaves of well grown thicket and illuminating the spindling veins. 

Heavy boots paused. The surrounding forest held its breath as the fallen, dead leaves crumbled under muddy soles, crackling like a standing ovation. Leather clad fingers skimmed over the glowing leaf, leaving behind a fresh, sloppy red stripe. Chapped lips parted to better breathe in the scent of damp earth that followed the occasional breeze. 

A familiar warmth slid up his left side, unintentionally disrupting the stillness. 

The silence could have choked them both, suddenly thick with a question neither was willing to ask.

Until now.

"Hoods," Masky was the first to crack, "What do we do?" His voice remained smooth, impassive. A lie. He was never one to let his own uncertainties slip. But tonight, every word he spoke had been just that. Because in his arms was a bundle. A _moving_ bundle. 

Hoodie turned only slightly, peering into eyes bluer than the moonbeams. He didn't have an answer. Not a good one anyway. Not when a separate question was scraping along the inner walls of his brain; _'Why did you bring it?'_ Hoodie thought he may have actually spoken his mind when not a moment later, a tiny fist shot out from the grimy excuse of a blanket and latched onto the front of Masky's golden pullover. "Can't bring it with us." Hoodie murmured after a long pause, "The river isn't far from here." 

The air became ten times heavier, pressing down against Hoodie's shoulders the longer Masky refused to look at him and he felt like such a dick for even suggesting something like that. He _did_. And judging by the way Masky's fingers tightened their hold on the cooing child, he thought so too. 

"We're _not_ bringing it with us." Hoodie repeated. He bit down the urge to call Masky by his name. He didn't want to sound like a parent but damn if the guy wasn't childish sometimes. 

Masky stood unwavering, staring down at the squirmy little thing in his arms with a quick glimpse of longing that was blinked away and replaced by steel resolve. 

Its eyes were red. Rose petals in fresh snow. Big and glittering and wet around the lashes, blinking slowly and obviously trying to fight the pull the sleep. 

Hoodie couldn't help feeling bad...a little. Especially since he knew that Tim had wanted kids before. It'd been a secret left hanging in the calm of a hot July afternoon. When the air made their tingling skin stickier and laying under the shade of a seasoned maple tree did little to help sooth flushed cheeks and those words fell from Tim's teeth like a broken string of pearls. 

_"I think we could do it." He mentioned, tucking his hands behind his head, "The kid thing...one day."_

_It was the offhanded casualness that had Hoodie turning to glance at him. Watching his chest rise, calm and slow and deep. Bare creamy skin prickled with beads of sweat, blush had wandered down from the tips of his ears to kiss at his collarbones_

_Their hearts beat together in the suffocating heat of summer._

_"I think we'd be good at it." Tim went on to say, not quite meeting Hoodie's eyes. It as his hesitation that made Hoodie want to pull Tim close and promise him the world and anything in it. Everything they could ever hope for. Everything they would never have._

_'You'd be good at it.' Hoodie could remember thinking..._

He never did answer him, and right now it was probably for the best. Because that was then. A lifetime ago. Before Slender. Now there was only Masky and Hoodie. There was no room for empty promises or distractions. But knowing that didn't make the situation any easier. Not when there was once a time when Hoodie believed Tim could've made a great father, and any kid would've been downright lucky to have him as one. 

The baby cooed again as it shifted in Masky's hold, bringing up a fat little hand to rub at its face. It would need to eat soon, which was _another_ problem. There was nothing in the mansion that could sustain an infant. And Hoodie was no expert, but he knew that babies pooped. A lot. No diapers, none of that powdery cocaine stuff that they drink...

They were so screwed. 

"It would be cruel." Hoodie added, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned on his right leg in his 'I'm putting my foot down' kind of way. But Masky knew better and could tell the difference between 'putting a foot down' and 'please, oh please stop being a brat and see reason'. 

This was 'Stop being a brat'. 

The wind was just beginning to pick up, skirting around trees and adding a sharper bite to the night air that had Masky pressing the baby closer to his chest. They were out later than they should've been. 

"Isn't it against the law to bring an infant into a dangerous environment?" Hoodie went on. The way his head was tilted back, it sounded more like a sigh. An exasperated sigh. _They could've been home by now._ "It's child endangerment." 

Masky snorted and threw him a sideways glance. But he'd made up his mind. There was something about this chubby shrimp of a thing that tugged at his cold, dead heart in all the right ways. 

Hoodie could shove it. 

"He won't notice." Masky said. Their elbows brushed together when he passed. "There's like, ten of us. What's one more?" 

~~~

"What in heavens name is _that_?" 

Slenderman towered at the top of the winding staircase. All nine feet of him was dressed in one of his immaculately pressed suits, making his ghostly white skin all the more prominent. The heavy crease of a brow was the only indication of his upset on an otherwise featureless face. His voice, like the rest of him, was deliberately calm for someone about to be burdened with _another_ child out of the blue. 

"I think he noticed." Hoodie muttered and swallowed down a grunt when a sharp, but not unexpected elbow caught him in the ribs. 


	2. And the World Turned Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving Jeff eyelids because it makes my life easier!!

The massive desk was the only barrier between them. Cherry wood polished to reflect the warm glow of a small lamp. 

Slender sat unmoving in his tall leather chair with his back straighter than a rod. He was close enough to lean his elbows on the wood. Close enough that Masky could smell the faint aroma he was giving off, lingering on every other breath he dared to take. Slenderman always smelled like a fresh summer rain. 

His hands were neatly folded and raised against his clamped jaw. 

They stayed that way, but the silence was only choking one of them. Two minutes bled into three and then four. 

During which time, Masky braced himself for the worst. The worst being the unyielding order demanding the baby be killed. The thought was enough to make Masky's heart clench. Everything in him screamed to see reason. To understand that he had absolutely no right to bring a child onto the property, never mind the _mansion_. 

Especially one so _young_. 

Fuck this was a nightmare. 

Despite it all, Masky knew leaving the little thing to freeze to death in the woods wasn't an option he could live with. He'd probably spend the night psychoanalyzing himself to figure out the why part later. 

Meanwhile, Slender was at a loss. Staring at the boy, _his_ boy. His boy that made a decision so utterly stupid, it had Slender questioning the possibility of possession. Masky's never stepped so far out of line. 

Still, Slender wasn't one to jump to conclusions or make rash assumptions. He would give Masky the benefit of the doubt and handle this with the same level of patience that he did with everything. Even if there really was no point. There was nothing the proxy could say that would make this any less horrendous. But Slender could keep an opened mind. He could _try_ to keep an opened mind.

"Child." Slender's voice finally cut through the tension. Deep and certain, outlined with the familiar buzzing that always seemed to follow him. He caught the way Masky's back straightened impossibly further, wound tight and waiting. Anxious for his final say to drop like the sudden, blood-crusted blade of a guillotine. "Explain it to me." 

And Masky did. 

~~~

The pointed tip of a freshly sharpened blade glinted proudly in the moonlight that crept through the tall windows. Pushing against the soft skin of the baby's face with something that only barely qualified as gentleness. 

The baby frowned at a particularly harder press, squirming and kicking in the gross looking blanket that it was clumsily wrapped in. But the unhappy lines and fusses vanished when the knife's pressure eased and resumed the light tracing of a cheek, trailing up to the edges of tightly shut eyes and wandering back down again to pause by the baby''s parted mouth. 

" _Get away from there_."

The blade immediately fell to rest against the baby's neck. The tip pressing on the jugular with enough force to make anybody uncomfortable. 

Eyes, pale like ice and equally cold, glared up at Hoodie holding their usual challenge. The knife never moved. But if the baby shifted, there would _definitely_ be blood. 

_"Move away."_ Hoodie said sharply. A hard shiver clawed down his spine. The sight twisted his stomach; Jeff the Killer hovering over a sleeping infant. Holding his fucking knife to its throat no less. 

And he knew Jeff had no problem slicing a kid's neck. Wouldn't be the first time. 

Hoodie's fingers grazed the pistol on his belt, a silent warning of what was to come should that knife so much as twitch. He may not care for the kid. In fact, he though his stupid boyfriend was crazy for even thinking of bringing it home with them. And he _knew_ his stupid boyfriend was crazy when the idiot actually went through with it. 

The point was, Masky cared about the slobbery brat enough to risk getting his ass chewed out by Slender. And Hoodie would be damned if he'd stand by and let Jeff slice into it like some Christmas turkey. 

"What is it?" The younger killer's voice was barely a whisper, scratchy and winded.

Hoodie's hand remained at his side, his focus was still on the knife, "You know what a baby is dude." 

Jeff blinked at him as if he were staring at someone exceptionally slow, "What's it _doing_ here." The blade kept still. Jeff was quick and dangerously accurate when it came to his games. He could kill someone in a few short seconds...if he didn't enjoy the mess so much. 

But Hoodie was no amateur either. In fact, the proxy was so far from the title of 'novice', he could, would and has unloaded a clip just as quickly. Shooting so precise, a few of the younger creeps were pretty sure Hoodie didn't even bother to look sometimes. 

It was a classic stalemate. The only thing missing was the old Western tune that usually signified a standoff. 

The baby cooed in its sleep and shifted to bring up a little hand that lazily swiped at its face. And Hoodie was pretty sure his heart stopped. Waiting for the piercing, ear-splitting scream of unbearable pain and the sudden spray of the baby's blood streaking along the blanket. Hoodie damn near shot three rounds into Jeff's chest for the thought alone. 

But nothing happened. 

The baby slept on, tucked into a cardboard box without a single care in the world. As if there wasn't a psychopath holding a knife to its neck while another wielded a loaded gun. Hoodie was determined to one day sleep as peacefully as that baby did. That baby was goals. 

Jeff was smirking at him now. Long, charcoal hair hung low over his left eye. Said eye gleamed with that smug, gut-punching ' _gotcha_ ' look.

What an asshole. 

"We found it." Hoodie's voice dropped in pitch, "Masky and I." 

"And it's staying here?" 

_Finally_ , Jeff pulled the knife away and Hoodie took in a visible breath. The young killer was trading his constant craving of bloodlust for the stronger pull of curiosity, so it seemed. And Hoodie was grateful for it. But he never let his guard down. The mansion was home to a number of devious masterminds. 

"It stays until further notice." 

Jeff hummed and soundlessly stood up from his crouch on the floor, rolling his neck and tucking the knife away into his pocket. "You didn't think this through."

"I'm aware of that." Hoodie sighed, finally winding down and letting some of his tension go. But it wasn't completely true. _He_ thought this through plenty. It was _Masky_ who fought him every step of the way. Literally. 

Jeff tapped the side of the worn cardboard box once with his foot, "The clown could be back soon." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "He eats these things, ya know."

If Hoodie wasn't already so fed up with what his life's become, he might've caught the meager hint of concern in the killer's voice. But he was too focused on trying to keep his lunch down. Of course he considered all _most_ of the consequences that would follow in bringing home an infant. He knew that Slender wouldn't intervene should someone snap or play too rough or get _hungry_. Hoodie knew that the kid probably wouldn't last three days, let alone a week in their care. Because let's face it, he and Masky were going to be sent away on another assignment. And there was no way Slender was going to allow them to bring the squealing thing along with them. 

Masky would be heartbroken. And that's what had Hoodie's own heart clenching. 

"I know." Hoodie nodded after a drag of stretching silence. Jeff wasn't wrong. 

Laughing Jack had a sick fetish for butchering, baking and carving little kids into candies, among other colorful treats. He was a freak if Hoodie ever seen one. And he's seen plenty. But even that was tolerable compared to what could be coming...

"Has Eyeless been around?" 

Eyeless Jack was the only creep that made him nervous. The wandering chill that crawled down his back like the legs of a spider wrapping around his spine was hard to ignore, the air of dread that E.J brought with him made them all uneasy. 

Not to say that any one of them was a standing pillar of the community. 

But E.J was odd even for a cannibalistic demon. Like he was much more in tune with the darkness and her secrets then he put on. It was a fucked up kind of luck that only one Jack tended to linger around the mansion more frequently than the other. 

_'Maybe we'll keep it in our room...'_ Hoodie thought, regarding the baby with a suppressed shudder. He really didn't want to imagine all the twisted things the E.J had in store for it. 

A ghostly hand rose to tuck away a few rebellious strands of charred hair behind his ear and Jeff sighed loud enough to shake the proxy from his spiraling thoughts. "Hasn't been around since you guys took off last week." He shrugged. And this time Hoodie did catch the tone of disappointment. It was enough to draw his attention from the baby. 

Jeff cleared his throat and kicked the box again, this time a little harder. "The kid won't last. This place isn't a fucking _home_. And the Boyscout's sick little mommy kink isn't gonna make it one." He didn't like the way that mask was looking at him. And he _really_ didn't like knowing that the guy under it was trying to stare _into_ him, silently hunting for answers. " 'Sides this thing fucking _stinks_." He added through a huff and pushed through Hoodie's gaze to slink out of the room without another word. 

~~~

The bathroom door creaked on groaning hinges and Masky slumped inside. He was immediately bombarded by delighted squeals and bubbling laughter that chased away every trace of exhaustion that the night was trying to settle in his bones. Beneath his mask was a smile unseen. One that reach the corners of his eyes and wrinkled his nose. A laughter of fairy bells bounced off of the black tiled walls and blended with the refreshing smell of citrus soap that they kept stocked in their bathroom. 

Masky hovered under the door frame in silent admiration at the man kneeling beside the porcelain tub. The black t-shirt that pulled and stretched at his back whenever he leaned against the edge. The baby was covered in fluffy suds, wriggling and kicking with such joyous mirth that it warmed the room. It was safe in the water, held secure by thick biceps and corded forearms that Masky made a habit of worshiping on a regular basis. 

The orange hoodie was folded, not entirely clean, since Masky could spot several blood splatters from their last assignment. His mask was carelessly thrown on top of it, the red stitched frown stared up crookedly as if it were victim to a really poor sewing job. 

Masky removed his own from his face and placed it beside Hoodie's, becoming Tim once more. 

Heavy boots moved across the large white-tiled floor, making no effort to be silent. It would've been a pointless effort. Hoodie already knew he was there. 

"This was a bad idea Timmy." Hoodie rumbled, dipping the happy baby back into the warm water. He was covered in bubbles too, looking less than amused. 

Masky kneeled on the floor beside him. Staring when he should've be more focused with the problem at hand. But he couldn't help it. Hoodie became a whole other person when he was doing something domestic. Cooking, cleaning, or in this case, bathing an infant. 

His eyes were mint leaves, flecked with splashes of gold that only sunlight could draw out. Freckles, like copper studs freshly dug out from the ground, marched proudly across his nose. The sharp, angular jaw. His thick raven curls that Masky's fingers itched to run through and tug at...

"Are you listening?" Those eyes snapped at him, hard but amused all the same. 

"No." Masky hummed, pressing his cheek into his palm. His honesty earned him a soft snort and a sharp, toothy smirk. And Masky was suddenly really glad to already be sitting down. 

"I said..." Hoodie looked away to focus again on the baby who was still splashing, "We're in deep shit. The others might not be thrilled about...her." 

Masky blinked. His eyebrows fell together in confusion, snapping out of his love-stricken haze, "Who's 'her'?" 

Hoodie, with only a half-hearted eye roll, lifted the infant from the water and ~~\--~~ _oh_. He pulled her close to his chest and reached for the fluffy black towel that was on the toilet lid. His shirt was soaked and sticking to his stomach. 

Well in hindsight, they really should've seen this coming. It was just their luck they'd bring home a girl. 

Masky finally got his shit together after about ten seconds and got up to help since Hoodie wasn't about to ask for it, despite fumbling with the baby and nearly dropping her...twice. 

"How did things go?" Hoodie asked, their fingers brushed over and over again. Apparently wrapping up the little girl in an enormous towel was a two person job that neither of them really minded. 

Masky shrugged a shoulder, "As expected." He didn't mention Slender's less than happy attitude on the matter, nor was he going to. He was pretty sure Hoodie had a general idea on who said what anyway. 

"What are you gonna do if they hurt her?" Hoodie muttered. It wasn't something he wanted to bring up, but this was their reality now. A very real possibility that Masky was ignoring. 

The baby was looking at them now, glancing in between both of them like she was trying to memorize every feature. And damn if her eyes weren't mesmerizing. Spilling with happiness that reached a wide toothless grin. They were red, like fresh carnations bloomed to their peak. The color alone was definitely unique and attention-grabbing, but hypnotically beautiful nonetheless. 

"I'll castrate them." Masky's lips slipped into a firm pout, but his blue eyes darkened with the intended promise. 

"Castration is _not_ the answer to everything, Timmy." Hoodie chuckled anyway. It lightened the pout some. "She's gonna need stuff." He added almost thoughtfully, wrapping the baby up a little tighter. Wild curls jutted out from all sides of her head, untamable silk. 

Masky nodded and stretched while making his way over to the door, willing away the creeping exhaustion for a bit longer in one of those 'You made your bed, now lay in it' kind of ways. "I'll be back." 

Hoodie grunted and pulled away a corner of the towel that the baby was trying to shove into her mouth. His body swayed slow and easy, back and forth. Masky didn't think Hoodie realized he was even doing it. This just looked to natural. Like they weren't sharing a mansion with a handful of the most lethal psychotics on the planet. Like they could somehow make this work. 

Masky lingered in the doorway, allowing the picture to paint itself in his memory. 

" _She needs stuff_." Hoodie repeated almost offensively slow. The baby girl was making grabby hands for his face and he was staring down at her as if she were a treasure...as if she were _his_. It was a look that made Masky's toes curling each and every time it was given to him. That had his heart racing so fast he could barely keep up. A look he would know blind. 

"Right?" Hoodie cooed at her, "You needs stuffs. Tell Timmy to get his ass moving." His voice was higher, softer. Playful. The baby squealed again and shoved her chubby fist into her mouth, her eyes were glued to his. 

To say Masky was in love was the understatement of the year. He was head over heels, free falling from an airplane, and crackling in a fiery explosion that tore him apart again and again and again. Warm fingertips and midnight thunderstorms. 

He left the bathroom, smiling when Hoodie vaguely threatened to kill him if Masky seriously made him go himself. Knowing that Hoodie had his back with every crazy decision meant the world. It filled Masky's stomach with butterflies all over again. And when he gets home, Masky had every intention to show Hoodie just how much he appreciated it. 


End file.
